


Culinary Experiments

by Aeshna_cyanea



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 09:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18618196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna_cyanea/pseuds/Aeshna_cyanea
Summary: Not long after coming to LA, Lucifer decides to teach himself how to cook.





	Culinary Experiments

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third prompt fill for my LuciferBingo bingo card.  
> Prompt: damages  
> (I am cheating a bit here, since the promot is not really central to the story, though it was at the core of the original plotbunny.)

Lucifer carefully closed the oven door, set the timer, and relaxed. So far, so good. Now all he could do was wait and hope. Taking a few steps back, he surveyed his kitchen. It was a mess, but not as big a mess as so often during the last few days. No fire or smoke, for one thing, though there was still a possibility of that happening.  
   
Instinctively he cast an anxious look towards the door, half expecting Maze to stand there, smirking, fire-extinguisher in hand, ready to douse him in foam. The memories of the last time were still fresh in his mind. He knew she was lurking somewhere unseen, hoping for another chance to shoot those annoying chemicals at him with unerring precision and what could only be called unholy glee.  
   
Her complaints about his failed culinary experiments and the inconveniences they caused were also still ringing in his ears. His demon could not understand why he insisted on trying to cook himself when LA offered so many excellent restaurants, take-away services, or, if it came to that, people who would be willing to sign on as his personal chef. Add in the fact that his failures had resulted in smoke, stench, and the need to redo the kitchen several times so far, and she was clearly getting fed up with him.  
   
Lucifer could sympathize to a point, but he was not willing to give up just yet. There was something about cooking, about taking raw ingredients and turning them into delicious things you could eat, that called to him. It was a creative endeavor in more than one sense of the word. Besides, there was no way he was going to admit that a simple human activity was beyond him. He was the Lord of Hell, an archangel, one of the most powerful beings in all creation. There was no way he could fail at something that scores of humans did every day.  
   
And really, how hard could it be?  
   
Much harder than he had originally thought, apparently. Determined to master this human skill on his own, he had equipped the kitchen in his new penthouse with all the necessary tools and appliances, and then had browsed the internet for an interesting first project, and gone out to get the necessary ingredients.  
   
With the hindsight provided by painful experience, choosing a chocolate soufflé for his first attempt had probably not been the wisest move. But a series of big and small disasters, fires, explosions, and three complete refurbishments of the kitchen later, he was sure that he was getting better.  
   
His latest attempt had made it into the oven without any critical mishaps, he had made sure the ceramic ramekin was ovenproof this time, the temperature settings were correct and the timer was set to the right time, and now all that was left was to wait. And perhaps clean up the various dirty utensils, and the spilled flour. Not to mention the egg that had smashed on the floor earlier when he dropped it.  
   
Perhaps he should call in his cleaning service.  
   
Or perhaps not. Not now, at any rate, while the soufflé was still in the oven. With his luck, they would arrive at the critical point when he needed to take the thing out, and distract him, and then he'd have another disaster. Better wait until his project was finished, and call them then.  
   
Lucifer glanced at the timer. 43 minutes, 16 seconds remaining. The recipe called for a baking time of 45 - 50 minutes. The last time, he had taken it out after 50 minutes and the top had been burnt, the acrid smell spreading out through the penthouse and drawing the attention of his demon. Maze had shown up immediately with her fire extinguisher, and only quick action on his part had stopped her from using the damn thing. The time before he had taken his soufflé out after 45 minutes, and it had not been done yet, collapsing into a nasty lump as soon as he opened the oven door. And when he had scraped it out of the form, he had found that parts of it were still liquid. But he wasn't sure if he hadn't gotten the temperature wrong in that attempt.  
   
Reflexively, he checked the temperature again. 375°F, just like the recipe said. And he had made sure to preheat the oven properly.  
   
42 minutes, 33 seconds remaining. He hated waiting. There was a reason it was one of the more common tortures in Hell.  
   
Lucifer began to pace the kitchen. He needed a distraction, something, anything to keep him occupied until that damn soufflé was done baking. For a moment, he considered going to the living room and playing a few songs on his piano. Playing always soothed his nerves and helped him calm down and relax.  
   
But that's what he had done five - or was it six - tries ago, and he had promptly been so absorbed in his music that he didn't hear the timer go off, and only realized something had gone wrong with his project when smoke began to drift into the living room. He had run back to the kitchen and immediately switched off the oven. And just as he opened the oven door to inspect the wreckage, Maze had come in with her trusty fire extinguisher and covered both the oven and Lucifer himself in cold, white foam, ruining yet another of his suits.  
   
He could seek out his demon, she would doubtlessly be willing to distract him. Yes, that's exactly what she would do. Distract him until he forgot about the soufflé in the oven, then cackle gleefully when the fire alarm went off, happy to get another chance for using the fire extinguisher. No. No matter how loyal and reliable Maze usually was, in this particular matter she was not to be trusted.  
   
40 minutes, 5 seconds. He needed something to do, otherwise he would go crazy. Maybe he should browse the net for his next cooking project. No, better not jinx this one. He could get a book and read for a bit, though. There was sure to be something in his library that could keep his attention for - he glanced at the timer - the next 38 minutes, 52 seconds.  
   
Decision made, Lucifer strode out of the kitchen, only to collide with Maze in the doorway. His demon glared at him and held out a phone before he could ask what she wanted. "Our landlord. For you."  
   
Her lips curved into a smirk as he took the device, alerting him to the fact that something was up. He retreated into the kitchen, not willing to leave his latest cooking attempt unsupervised with the demon present.  
   
"Hello Dean, what can I do for you?"  
   
"You can stop trying to burn down my building, you bastard! What the hell are you doing there? Half the other tenants are threatening to move out and sue me for damages! And if they do, I'm going to sue you!"  
   
Lucifer held the phone away from his ear and grimaced. The man's shouting had come through painfully loud and clear. He sighed, then cast an irritated look at Maze who was leaning in the doorway, sniggering.  
   
"There's no need for that, Dean. I admit that I did have a few mishaps in my kitchen, bu-"  
   
"A few mishaps?! The Petersons below you said that the contractors were there every day this week! And the fire brigade had to come twice! I had a call from my insurance company, they're going to raise the premiums for the fire insurance!"  
   
"Look, Dean, I'm sure we can clear up this matter..."  
 

* * *

  
Half an hour later, Lucifer stabbed the button to end the phone call with more force than strictly necessary and let out a deep sigh. It had taken all his devilish charm, a considerable amount of cash and the promise that he would relocate any future cooking experiments to a property that did not belong to Dean Cooper to calm the man down and persuade him not to cancel their rental agreement. Cooper really was odious. Lucifer was beginning to regret making a deal with the man.  
   
He sighed again and leaned back against the counter. As his gaze wandered around the empty kitchen - Maze had disappeared sometime in the last half hour, probably when she realized that he was going to get his way with their landlord - he wondered if perhaps he should give up his culinary experiments altogether.  
   
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP    
   
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP  
   
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP  
   
The shrill alarm of the timer made him start violently. Only supernaturally quick reflexes prevented the phone from landing in the spilled egg on the floor. Instead, a quick gesture sent it clattering across the counter to come to rest against the dirty mixing bowl as Lucifer leapt to the oven.  
   
He switched off the annoying alarm and peered through the glass door. His soufflé looked good. The top was a uniform chocolate brown, no signs of burning yet. It had risen above the rim of the ramekin like it was supposed to do. Everything seemed to be in order. Perhaps he should give it another minute or two, just to be safe?  
   
No. That way lay burnt tops. He switched off the oven, took a deep breath, and opened the door.  
   
The soufflé remained unchanged as some of the hot air from inside the oven escaped and was replaced with cooler air. Slowly, carefully, Lucifer reached inside and lifted his treasure out with his bare hands, impervious to the heat that would have burnt a human. Fire was the Devil's element after all.  
   
He set the ramekin down on a cork mat on the counter and watched anxiously, waiting for any sign of a last minute disaster. Nothing happened. As the seconds ticked by without any sudden catastrophes, Lucifer gradually relaxed. He let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding, and became aware of a lovely scent that was spreading through the kitchen. Warm, sweet, chocolatey. Delicious.  
   
Torn between the wish to admire his successful creation, and his desire to taste the delicious result of his hard work, Lucifer continued to stand there for a few minutes longer, before the mouthwatering scent finally became too much. He quickly fetched a clean spoon from the cutlery drawer, held it poised over the soufflé for a moment to take one last look at his creation, whole and unblemished, and then carefully lowered the spoon and scooped out the first mouthful.  
   
Just as he was about to raise it to his lips, something made him stop and turn towards the open kitchen door. He wasn't sure if it was a sound, a tiny movement seen out of the corner of his eye, a change in the air currents, or simply instinct.  
   
Maze was once again leaning in the doorway.  
   
Lucifer expected her to make some snarky, perhaps sarcastic remark, but instead he saw her nostrils flare and her eyes widen, and as she took a step into the kitchen, a small, wordless sound escaped her that brought a smile to his face. Halfway between a whine and a chirp, it was the sound young hellhounds made when they were begging for food.  
   
This was not the first time he had heard his demon make that particular sound. Maze actually had a variety of sounds she used in place of verbal communication, but this particular one was Lucifer's favorite. It was just so... cute to hear her make it. Not that he would ever tell her that, he didn't have a death wish.  
   
He knew why she did it, too. Maze was not the begging kind. Asking for something, or worse, saying please, was not something she did. She seemed to have an extreme aversion to it, and while Lucifer was not sure about the cause for that, a few comments she had let drop about her upbringing allowed him to make an educated guess. Neither of them had had a happy childhood, and Lilith had arguably been worse than his parents.  
   
So whenever she wanted something, particularly food or drink, but did not want to come out and ask for it, she made the pleading hellhound puppy sound. And right now, she clearly wanted a taste of his chocolate soufflé.  
   
He arched an eyebrow as she sidled closer. "Are you sure you want to risk it? I haven't tasted it yet."  
   
In response, Maze leaned closer, inhaled deeply, and chirp-whined again.  
   
Smiling softly, Lucifer lifted the spoon and held it out to her. Instead of taking it out of his hand, Maze tilted her head and leaned forward, her tongue darting out and flicking cautiously against the bit of soufflé before retreating again.  
   
He watched as she tested the flavor. Her eyes widened, and with one quick movement of her head, Maze's lips enveloped the spoon and pulled the bit of chocolatey goodness off.  
   
"Mmmmmm."  
   
Lucifer chuckled at the throaty moan his demon made as she swallowed. "I take it my culinary experiment meets with your approval this time?"  
   
Maze shot him a look, but nodded. "Yes." She eyed the empty spoon. "More."  
   
Smiling indulgently, he scooped up another spoonful and fed it to her, then quickly took one for himself before she could demand more.  
   
Lucifer's eyes widened as the rich, sweet taste of chocolate filled his mouth. This had absolutely been worth all the work, all the trouble, all the arguments with contractors and landlords, the flames, the stenches, the fire-extinguisher foam, the snarky remarks, the ruined suits. He had made this mouthwateringly delicious thing. With his own hands, out of simple ingredients. He had created this treat.  
  
  
A not so gentle nudge from Maze drew him out of his thoughts. "More."  
   
For a moment, Lucifer was tempted to suggest she should get her own spoon. But he realized just in time that this would most likely result in him getting barely more than a few bites of his own creation. Rolling his eyes as she whined again, he scooped up another spoonful for her, and then one for himself.  
   
Maze leaned against him, humming happily and nuzzling his throat as he continued to share the result of his hard work with her. He sighed in contentment and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his body. This easy intimacy had been missing from their interaction during the last couple of days, and he hadn't even noticed until now. It appeared that Maze had been more annoyed by his cooking attempts than he had thought.  
   
The finished the soufflé in silence. Once Lucifer had scraped out the last half-spoonful for himself, Maze eyed the empty ramekin critically, then swiped a finger around the inside, gathering up the last traces of chocolate. A small, disappointed sound escaped her when it became evident that there was absolutely nothing left. Lucifer couldn't suppress a laugh.  
   
His demon turned around, lips pursed, brows drawn together, clearly offended by his amusement. He was already raising his hands in a placating gesture when her eyes narrowed, her gaze becoming fixed. A split second later, Maze was suddenly right in front of him, grabbing his head and smashing their lips together.  
   
It took Lucifer a moment to realize that she was not in fact attacking him, though the kiss did edge into the blurry area between passionate and outright aggression. Once he got over his surprise, he reciprocated enthusiastically. It had been entirely too long since he and his demon really let go and gave in to their desire for each other.  
   
When Maze broke the kiss to gulp some much-needed air, he reached up and cupped her cheek. "Have I been neglecting you, my darling?"  
   
"No." To his dismay, she pulled back and scowled. "You can do whatever you want. I have no claim on your time."  
   
Lucifer suppressed a sigh. It was true, Maze did not have any formal claim on his time. He was the King of Hell, she was his loyal right hand. But she was also his friend, his partner. He reached out and cupped her cheek again, willing her glamor away. Thankfully, Maze did not pull away again, leaning into his touch instead.  
   
"Nevertheless, I have been neglecting you. I'll make it up to you."  
   
His demon leaned further into his touch, and then wrapped her arms around his neck. "You can start right now."  
   
And with that she pulled him into another passionate kiss. Lucifer responded eagerly, running his hands over her back, down her sides, fingers brushing against her breasts, then moving on to tease the bare skin in the gap between her top and her tight mini-skirt, before reaching for the skirt's hemline and inching it upwards. All thoughts of cooking were forgotten as he concentrated on his demon.  
 

* * *

   
Much later, while the cleaning crew was at work dealing with the now considerably bigger mess in the kitchen, Lucifer lay curled up in Maze's bed, his demon half-asleep in his arms. He pressed a tender kiss to her bare shoulder, a silent promise that he would make sure not to forget her while tackling his next project. And perhaps he could even persuade her to lend a helping hand, now that she had seen how much fun one could have in a kitchen.


End file.
